On the Edge of Life
by gold-lie.promises
Summary: Clementine used to live a normal survivor's life with the group until the farm was attacked and she was left alone with a backpack, hiding skills and hope. For so long, she looked for her people until the day she met up with her closest friend: Daryl. What happens when she discovers he's not the guy she knew and she decides to leave him? Rated M for heavy mature content, I warn you
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi hello, I'm really excited to upload for the first time my fanfictions on the Internet. This is the second Walking Dead fiction I write, but the first one I publish.  
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**** DISCLAIMER AND BLAHBLAH: I do not own either The Walking Dead and The Walking Dead game characters ****

**Clementine's outfit is on my polyvore account electric-outfits in the '' My Zombie Apocalypse Survivors' Team '' collection, come take a look! (she is #13)  
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Prologue

The main character's Clementine (Clem) from the Walking Dead video game but her past story has been changed to fit with this fanfiction. In the following chapters, she'll be the narrator.

Clementine was with the group since Atlanta. Loving to play with Carl and Sofia, she was a smart little girl, trying to live a normal life in a crazy world. She followed them to the CDC and to Hershel's farm. Despite her young age back then, she became Daryl's good friend and sometimes - when he allowed her - she had gone looking for Sofia or had gone hunting with him. He taught her a few survival and fighting things.

The night the farm was attacked, she hadn't got the time to climb in any car and wasn't noticed by anyone so she had ran away. Gratefully carrying a backpack filled with food, clothes and a hammer and a gun for weapons, it was too late when she thought about heading back to the highway; they were already gone and far. She spent a lot of time alone, looking for her group.

Daryl's advices helped her a lot with surviving but it was harder to find food since she wasn't a really good hunter. Clementine didn't find another group; she could only focus on looking for her people. Almost a year went by and she hadn't found anyone: she started loosing hope. "They're probably dead," she'd told herself a few times but she kept searching, at least looking for their bodies, dead or alive.

She heard the noise of when the prison was attacked and decided to follow it. After a few hours, she ended up on the ruins of the battlefield and left it. A few more days later, she saw a cabin and, seeing it was getting late, decided to go in. When she knocked on the door to attract any walkers that may be inside, Daryl opened the door, his crossbow pointed at her face. She froze, unable to react in a different way than jumping on him and hugging him. Finally. He told her about everything that's happened to them while she was gone: the prison, the Governor, the attack, people they lost.

"You left alone?" she asked.

"No."

She looked around. "I don't see anyone else!"

"She's… gone."

"Who?"

"Beth."

Clementine looked up at him in shock. "I'm so sorry…"

She preferred to not ask more. Daryl was being such a dick when he was drunk and he seemed pretty affected by Beth's leak. All day, he was drinking causing the entire cabin to smell like alcohol and he was barely eating. He didn't go on a hunt for the time they spent together, she had to do everything by herself. For a 15 years old girl, she had to survive for two people at the same time.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 - Humdrum life style

As we were sitting at a table in the darkness of the cabin brightened by only the flame of a candle, I was looking at him still drinking that damn liquor. I was frustrated, all this was enough.

"Daryl, you have to understand that we can't stay here. The others, they may be still alive and even if they aren't, we can't spend the rest of our lives here, waiting for… what, death? No, we only have one life and we gotta live it until the end, now isn't the end so we've gotta keep going. Don't you want to know what happened to them? Don't you want to ever get to see them again? What if they're looking for you and we'd keep hiding in this forsakened cabin, how would they find us – well you?"

"They dead."

"Perhaps they're not. How could you know?"

"Saw it."

"You didn't see anything; you ran away."

"Clem, I know they dead."

"You know it? Are you fucking kidding me? If I made it alone outside, why couldn't they? Who are you to say such things anyway?"

"Guy that came back after he ran away." His piercing blue eyes looked deep into mine.

I sighed. "I've been looking for you guys, get it?"

"You left us."

"YOU left me! For so long, maybe a year? a year and a half? I've kept searching. I thought you were all dead but still I kept on going. And I found you. You gotta believe, Daryl, to make things happen."

"Ain't nothin's gonn' happen." He took the cigarette out of his mouth to take a swig of his drink and, again, his eyes were fixing that damn window behind me.

I eyed the bottle, pissed off. "So you're just gonna stay here, getting shitfaced drunk all day long?" He didn't answer which pissed me even more but I tried to stay calm. "Alright, it's cool. I'm packing my stuff tomorrow morning, sure as hell I'm not staying with someone that refuses to have a little faith." For a second, I thought what I had said had affected him somehow like, by miracle, he had had some sort of reaction to something I said. I think he flinched or something… what, because I spoked about faith? Right after the illusion, I stared at him to see if he'd react again but he didn't – of course –, didn't even make an eye contact with me. That's when I knew I had lost.

By the window at my right, I could hear the rain falling and I could see the full moon enlightening the dark sky. I was missing the fresh air of a rainy night, I was missing the fresh air; it smelled dead animal, booze and cigarette in here. I couldn't stay in this atmosphere one more minute.

I turned back my gaze on him. "Finally, I'll probably go tonight, yes." I stood up and took my backpack, making sure everything was in it. I shouldered it and stood up. "You're coming?" He didn't reply. I chuckled in disbelief "That's what I thought." I put on my dirty baseball cap and made my way to the door. I opened it and turned to him, pronouncing the words "I was happy to see you, Daryl" before stepping in the wilderness that is the world.

At first, I was still mad at him. That was sort of being selfish, refusing to look out for his friends. Then, I was getting cold, the raindrops falling on my hair were making their way down my back and under my shirt.

After, I got a bit scared. I had spent the last couple of days in a safe place – well safe… safer than the timber! – and, for the first time in so long, I had company. I thought about going back but I couldn't stand that damn cabin, especially its smell but also the man hidden inside it. Daryl had changed so much since the last time I saw him; he used to be very nice to me, he was probably my best friend. Now, he's all pissed off and he doesn't care about nothing else than smoking, drinking, pissing all over the place and being such a dumbass.

After a while, I climbed up a tree and spent the night in it, waking up every so often of something I couldn't even call sleep. Already back to that humdrum life style: barely sleeping, barely eating, kill, run, repeat.

It was still to early when I found myself walking on a small muddy path. The sun was still rising and the birds just started singing but I couldn't stay it that tree any longer. After a while, a train track crossed my path. Should I follow it? Why not… East or West? I decided to head East for no particular reasons.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 - "Believer"

Days went by as I kept following the tracks heading east. I didn't know why I kept following the tracks. And why east? Well, why not east! I hoped I'd find a place, maybe the others would be there. If there was a place, was it at least safe? I didn't know and I didn't really care. As long as it wasn't full of fags like Daryl, it was fine by me!

How long since I was walking?

Sweat was covering my face, my curly hair was dirty and gathered heat over my shoulders, the hat on my head was gathering heat as well, the heavy backpack was slowly destroying my back, my feet were burning and hurting, my lips were dry. I needed water, I needed food. I felt like walking in the middle of the desert on mid-afternoon.

I needed to rest but rest somehow leads to death when you're alone. What if you fell deeply asleep just when a herd of walkers cross your path? You'd have fallen asleep but would never have waken up – alive.

All I needed was a friend, someone to tell me that it'd be fine, someone that would back me, help me getting through this. I needed Daryl. The old Daryl. Not the dirty pissed off fag ass fuck-the-population Daryl.

If only I could take a break. Why was I forcing myself to keep going? Because I believed, I believed too hard, in anything, anytime.

I was a true believer.

I believed there was a good side in every bad situation. I believed in dreams, in fairytales. I believed in a happy ending for everyone. I believed in worldwide peace. I believed we'd never need to use weapons anymore.

I believed in unicorns, in pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, in leprechauns. I believed in fairies and magical creatures of that kind.

But all that stopped when I heard that day on the radio about a man attacking people, bitting them, eating them. I stopped believing in good when the bad took over the world. Darkness was slowly taking it's place all over the globe has hell was filling my mind as fast as it was filling the streets. Of course, I was afraid but like every survivor today, I became mad.

Like the Mad Hatter would say, we're all mad here. Yes, now we are.

I mean, look at us. The living kills the dead to survive but if the dead kills the living before the living kills the dead, the living becomes a dead and will kill the living to, eventually, be killed by a living. And the cycle repeats. Craziness!

The world is mad because it left us in a vicious circle. Left us in a dead-ended street with the choice of surviving, of running after every breath of life we can find and the choice of dying and to piss off the ones that decided to survive by eliminating them slowly, one by / And at the end, the dead wins because the dead is pretty much invincible.

If I could just… lay down here for a minute, it would have been what I needed. Just to rest a bit, stomach on the tracks, leaving myself burn under the sun already killing me. Just five minutes.

_But those "five minutes" were the five minutes I should never have taken. They placed me on the edge of life and soon, it was too late to come back._


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 - "This wretched life of yours"

I opened my eyes and it was dark. I could barely see what was around me but when they were adjusted to the darkness, I saw trees on the side of the tracks. But trees weren't the only things I noticed then. People. At my left, there were four people. I didn't bother to check if there were behind me though.

Someone took my backpack off my back, I didn't move. Take it if you want, it's most likely going to be more useful for you than for me! Then, I was lifted up by strong hands. A man's voice whispered in my ear. "It's okay, you'll be safe with us." Did I hear a laugh after or something? I think yes but honestly, they can laugh as much as it pleases them. They placed me on the backseat, in a truck. I was still feeling weak so I closed my eyes during the ride. I think I got a heat stroke as I was taking my "five minutes" break. Where are we going? Who are they? What do they want from me?

A good while later, they had finally stopped the truck. The same hands – which belonged to two men – helped me to get up and I was standing in front of a big concrete building. Right under a spotlight was a billboard were I read:

_Chico y Pedro's garage. We give the service, you give the advice. Open 5 days a week, from 8am to 9pm_

They opened the metal door and we got in. A guy lead me somewhere I could rest, telling me to not be afraid and to relax throughout the night before he closed the door behind him.

Should I panic? In movies, usually, when they used to say 'we don't want any troubles', they were actually going to put you in some heavy shit. At the same time, that heat stroke had hit me hard and my brain was overheating so thinking wasn't the best I could do. I looked at the mattress placed on the floor. Lucky me, I had a pillow. Was this a five star motel from the apocalypse!? I laid down and the second my head touched the fabric, I deeply fell asleep. Any bad things that had to happen during the night were then welling to happen with me sleeping like a rock.

_Stupid me for saying such crap…_

Two men entered in the room. Was it still night or was it morning yet? I had no ideas; there were no windows near. I only had the time to open my eyes – my sight being still blurry because of the tiredness – to see one of them holding a damped towel and bringing it to my face before I blacked / It probably was some sort of soporific.

I awakened in a different room. The only source of light was from a spotlight placed right upon my head. I looked around, scanning the room through the darkness to see where I was. The effects of the substance I inhaled were still affecting my brain and all I could notice was the chain link fence on which my wrists were tied. My feet still touching the ground, I felt like I was being exposed to whatever – or whoever – cared. I first thought about screaming for help but, considering my situation, to call attention was certainly the last thing I had to do. So I waited like that for a good while, maybe a few hours. Still not knowing what time it was and considering the tiredness still filling my body, I closed my eyes and tried to rest for the best as I could do.

The door was opened and I heard foot steps. I yawned and looked at the man taking a chair he brought in the white circle made by the light on the floor and sitting on it. We eyed each other in silence. As he was sort of inspecting me from up and down with a smile, I was eyeing him in disgust and fear. Yes, I was slowly regaining my mind and I started to realize the potential danger.

"Hello," he said after a few minutes, "I'm Jovani." He stopped like he was waiting for me to answer. Seeing I wasn't going to speak, he chuckled. "Don't worry, you ain't the only one that was afraid at the beginning, we once had another case way worst…" He stood up and walked around, reminding himself of that other person he was talking about. "Damn, she'd scream and cry and try to hurt us but still we did her and we did her good." Evil laugh. It froze my blood tight in my veins. _We did her?_ What did he mean by saying that? "But I feel like you're going to cooperate more, maybe 'cause of your young age. Well that's good! Sometimes, youthfulness is what my men need."

"What are you talking about?" The words had left my lips before I could swallow them back.

"You see," he turned his devilish gaze towards me, "our job is to make sure this world still runs right, that everyone's happy and alive. If it doesn't work for someone, we act most of the time by punishing them. You were trying to kill yourself when we found you on the tracks yesterday. You ain't happy so you have to undergo the consequences."

_What?_ I tried to move my hands but they were too tightly fixed. "This world doesn't run right, it never did. And I was only taking a nap, I didn't try to kill myself! Huh, let me go before I-"

"Before what?"

"Before I kill you."

"Because you think you can?" He burst out laughing like I had told a joke. What's so funny? "Like if you, little bitch, could kill me, huh?" He placed a hand under my chin and mimicked a pity face before walking away. "Trust me, little girl, leaving us is now the last thing you'd like to do."

"Are you going to punish me if I try?"

He punched me on the cheek. I coughed as he placed himself right in front of me, a finger raised. "The next week is going to be the worst week of this wretched life of yours. You'll ask us to die at the end."

"That is never going to happen." I said with my teeth tight. Who does he think he is? King Jo? br / He looked me in the eyes, breathing fast. All this was making him even more angry.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 - Human Nature

It felt like I was face-to-face with an angry bull, steam was about to escape from his ears. "Y'know what? Fuck it, let's start today."

Throwing his boots away, he unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans in seconds. Concern was taking over my mind as I was totally back to reality, the effects of the soporific all gone away. Then, he threw my shoes away and pulled hard onto my jeans as I tried to debate but he ripped them away of my body. He did the same with my panties. Half naked, I was terrified because I knew what was coming. I never had that kind of physical relation before and I knew it'd be terribly painful, especially with him.

I screamed so loud, I could have shattered every window in the room – if there were. And he was having fun, he was laughing, it was funny for him to see me in pain, to see me being hurt, to see me cry, to hear me scream. It was what he needed apparently. What he had said before, it was all clear now. _We did her and we did her good_. The more the victim cries and screams, the more he gets into his work. But remaining silent was just not an option.

He left the room, still laughing, as he was buckling up his belt. "It's only human nature, darling!" An evil laugh. The door shut.

I looked down at my bare feet. Blood was falling down my legs, staining them with that well-known morbid color. My whole body was sore, especially my crotch. My lungs terribly burned because I didn't stop screaming. My cheeks were wet from the tears that ran them down as he was proceeding and my eyes were surely red. I couldn't breath properly because of the fear, the pain and the event. I was traumatized. And I was feeling so weak. My batteries being low, I needed to take a long break, to rest, to escape from that nightmarish place. To forget it all and go.

Later that day, the door was opened again and a man got inside. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I was tried to set myself free from the tape that was wrapped around my wrists. Obviously impossible.

He walked toward me as I tried to cover myself with my legs. But he wasn't there for this anyway; he had a plate in his hand. He fed me since I couldn't do it by the plate was empty, he smiled at me and looked down. Using two fingers, he caressed the hair covering my pubis. "My turn tomorrow, sweetheart," he winked, "can't wait." He whispered in my ear and left the room. I started to cry.

During the following days, it was a new man each day. Different sizes, different lengths, different techniques, different smiles, different laughs, but always the same pain increasing after every punishment. As the days went by, I was getting weaker and weaker. Yesterday, I could barely scream. Jovani had said it'd last a week so, hopefully, today was my last day. I couldn't take it anymore: my crotch was burning every time I was taking a breath, my legs were covered in blood and as strong as wet spaghettis, my face was probably bloody too; two of them had that strange pleasure to hit me as they were doing their work – like I needed more. My top was ripped off and bloody but – luckily? – still covering most of my upper part. I was tired of it all. If only there were a gun that could fall in my hand right now. Just one bullet would end it all.

Eyes closed, trying to regain some sort of strength, I heard the door shut open.

_Is that you reaper, coming to end me? To end my days? To end my pain? Please, tell me it's you._

I opened an eye, lightly blinded by the light over me. When it adjusted to the luminosity, I opened the other one. As always, I couldn't see who was the raper until he'd walk where there's light. Still, I could manage to see his silhouette. He hadn't moved from where he had closed the door. Was he analyzing his victim from the darkest side of the room so the darkest side of his mind could localize where to start?

After a brief moment of him not moving, he took a step forward, then a second one. Every so slowly, he managed to cross half the way before he stopped again, still hidden in the darkness. His steps felt unsure like if he was wondering what the hell he was doing there. As I did the previous days when my raper was approaching of me, I closed my eyes and waited for him to come. But I didn't hear no signs of movement.

My heart twisted and sank into a painful movement when I simply heard:

"Clem…"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Don't look back

"Clem?"

My eyes widened as he stepped forward. Those well-known dirty brown boots first appeared in the light followed by the dirty ripped pants, the leather jacket over a gray sleeveless top, revealing strong bare arms and finally that face. Those piercing blue eyes found mine. I had never seen him so overwhelmed: one second he had his eyes wide opened in shock and surprise and a second later they were filled with rage and disgust and anger and a need of sudden revenge. He only looked at me for a few seconds, but I never forgot the numerous things his eyes could say in such a short time.

I looked down and sighed as he spun on his heels. "Don't do anything bad. We're both gonna be in big troubles."

"Don't give a shit," he turned to face me, "look what they done to you. You…" He passed his hands in his hair and over his face trying to calm down as he was walking back and forth. "You…" Again, he didn't find the rest of the sentence and he gave up.

Daryl took out his knife and set my wrists free of my makeshift handcuffs by slashing the tape. His eyes had barely looked in mine for seconds and they never looked down – at my body. He seemed embarrassed of the actual situation so he started looking for something to occupy his mind. I could see it by the wrinkles that were now all over his forehead. I heard him sighed as he walked behind the chain link fence as I was massaging my reddened wrists.

He came back in front of me a moment later with a dark blue jumpsuit in his hand. "Take it." He sat on the chair placed in the middle of the room and buried his face in his hands.

I accepted it and put it on. "Thank you." Through the pain, I managed to sit on the floor and even if my body was covere he kept avoiding my eyes. "You okay?

"Yeah."

I sighed. I knew him way too much, he couldn't try to keep something away from me. Even after all this time. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me you're okay."

His right leg began to shake and he stood up, walking back and forth once again trying to control his emotions. "I can't. Ya don't deserve this. Them fuckin' assholes gonna learn." He kicked a tire that was set in a corner. "Ain't gonn' let you be hurt like that."

"But it's too late, they already did the damages. We can't go back in the past."

"Wish we could…"

_Why did I have to say that?_ Damn me! Talking about past with Daryl is such a risky topic… We stayed quiet for a moment as he sat back down. I looked down and found his knife laying on the floor. I took it and tried to see me face on the metallic blade: my bottom lip was cut at two different places, there was a light cut and a bruise on my left cheek. I put it aside and looked around at my tortutr room.

"Didn't know what they were, Joe seemed to be nice but looks like he ain't."

"Wasn't his name Jiovani?"

"Joe, Jiovani… the same guy at the end."

"Since when are you with them?"

"Few days, not long after you left. Found me and invited me in. Had no choice but to accept. Didn't tell me 'bout all that game till yesterday when Len came and told me what I'd have to do, made me so angry. No matter who it was here, wouldn't have done it."

"I know you wouldn't, you're not like that."

He looked up at me with a small smile before he dropped back down his head and sighed. "And they beat ya. All 'cause of me…"

"All that isn't your fault!"

"'Course it is, ya left 'cause of me. We was safe, you was safe with me, but I let ya on your own 'cause I'm a fuckin' dumbass prick." He vigorously stood up.

"You're not a-"

"Clem," he leaned closer to me, his eyes dark with so much anger, "you been hurt 'cause of me, it was my fault. I shoulda ran after you back at the farm. I shoulda protect 'em better so we'd still be at the prison. I shoulda listened to you instead of mourning with shit stuff." His voice was getting louder, "It was all my fault" and he broke down in silent tears. "Again I left ya… and now you-"

I hardly managed to stand on my feet and I tried to walk toward him to comfort him, but my body was way too sore. I held the fence to keep my balance. I couldn't hold back the grunt of pain, which caused him to turn his gaze on my face. "Come here," I whispered with the more tender voice I could ever found.

He walked to me and I hugged him when he was close enough. "It's not your fault, Daryl. It's the way it all was supposed to be. All that happened for some reasons. We learn of our mistakes, remember?" He nodded, being reminded of what I once told him back at the farm when we were looking for Sophia, and I pulled away. "We don't have plenty of time; they're most likely wondering why they're not hearing screams at the moment." I paused for a moment to regain some calmness before announcing my decision. "Look, I'm tired of it all, of suffering, of being hurt, of living. Daryl, I want you to end me."

Rage darkened is gaze as he swiftly took the knife from the floor and shove it in its sheath. "Never. Ain't killin' no friends."

"Please, I'm begging you. You don't want to see me hurt, then kill me now. It'll all be okay after."

"Don't even think about it."

A knock on the door resounded all over the room. "Don't take forever, man. She gotta be ready for tomorrow 'cause it's my turn again," Joe's awful voice was heard from behind the door. And then his terrifying laugh.

I turned back to Daryl. "See! C'mon please, do it for me. With the knife."

"No."

"I can't take it anymore… please." I was getting so nervous with the situation. Joe waiting for Daryl to come out, the fear of having to live it all again, the stress of ending my days short. My eyes drifted from the door to the knife, briefly stopping on his face. "Please." I whispered with watery eyes. "Daryl please. Let me turn and let me take my revenge. Please do it. Don't you want to see your friends happy? Do it, do it for me. Do it and run away, never come back. Please do it and go." Tears were rushing down my face as my brain was surrounded by nervousness.

"I can't." His breath was short.

"Then give me the knife and let me do it myself. I'm dying in this room, right here, right now. Give me the knife."

His hand trembled as it slowly made its way to the handle of the knife. His fingers tightened around it, but he dropped his hand. "Can't let you do this."

"I don't want to suffer anymore, I don't want to live any longer, I'm tired of surviving. Surviving is for people being afraid of death, I'm not. Let me finish it, give me the knife." Again, Daryl hesitated, but gave me the weapon. I took it and hugged him tight one last time. "Thanks a lot, this makes me happy, I love you." I whispered, my face buried in the crook of his neck.

"Same."

"Go find the others and find a safe place. Build a new home, a new life. Are you gonna do it?"

"Sure."

"And you're gonna start believe now?" He didn't answer. "Do it for me. Please…"

He took a deep breath and mouthed a brief "I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I kissed him on the cheek and took a deep breath as he backed away. I had never seem him cry like this before, but I had to do it for us. This would give him the strength to do what's good for him. He'd do it for me, I know him, he's the kind to keep his promises. What a loyal friend.

I smiled at him before I planted the blade deep into my stomach. Blood instantly damped the jumpsuit I was wearing. I fell on my knees then on the side. Daryl kneeled down next to me and placed my head on his thighs. "Don't look back… okay?" I asked and he nodded. It was my way to tell him to not mourn my death, to not do like he did for Beth at the cabin, to look forward, to keep walking, to believe. "They're out there… waiting for you to… f- find them. Say hello for… m- me."

"Promise."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - "The road to Paradise"

Minutes later, I was dead. He cried but tried to hide his tears as he was packing his stuff and telling the others he'd go on a hunt. The first one to be bit was the guy that brought me food. Then, chaos made its way throughout the garage.

As I told him, Daryl never came back. He kept walking and found Rick, Carl and Michonne on their way to a place called Terminus. That place was on the west side of the tracks but I headed east.

I prowled around for a long while until someone slashed my skull with a machete. Then, my soul found the right road towards paradise. And here I am today, telling you my story starting a bit before the end. br /I've been put on the edge of life many times before but never as much as during my last week with that prick of Joe. They made me and – most likely – many others before me their sexual slaves, maybe even before the world became what it is now. Their souls are never going to cross the road to paradise; their destiny is to intoxicate the world as long as they are 'alive' and infected until someone put them down. Their souls will directly head towards hell for what they've done.

That's the fate reserved to fuckers like them.

I close this book today, sharing a part of my story, hoping that I'm the last one to live a life as pitiable as this one. No one deserves such thing, not even the ones you hate the most. Because, at the bottom of the ladder, we're all the same, we're all humans but as we grow up, we decide which way to take, which opportunities to take, which people to follow, what kind of life we want to live.

I chose the better ways but I was one of those who failed somewhere during the process and were left with what remained, with what no one wanted. I did my best and I lived happy for a long while before discovering the dark side of life.

What I'm saying here is not to complain about every little things you don't own or can't own, what I'm saying is to enjoy the little things. Even the littlest things can be the best ones. To enjoy your life and who you are is the best way to live forever happy and through the ups and downs.

Peace and love,

Clementine.

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**A/N: Hey it's done, hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I promise happier fictions for the future, but I really wanted to do one like such to represent a danger that may not also be in a zombie apocalypse, but also in our lives. Everyday girls and women are raped all across the globe and it was somehow my way to show them all my respect. Those people don't deserve a fate like such – no one does, not even the worst of us – and they'll have to live for the rest of their lives with the memories and a reputation haunting them until they're six foot underground and even then.  
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**Again, hope you,ve enjoyed and thanks for reading!**

*** Go take a look at my Caryl fanfictions, _Switch Roles_ and _Chandelier_ ***


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